For You
by kerylsmith
Summary: A story about how louis tomlinson and hannah met. I OWN NOTHING.
1. Chapter 1

Once, twice, three times. She almost made her fourth pirouette before the paper ball hit her shoulder. Suddenly losing her focus, she fell, landing hard on her left ankle. The usual gang hang around outside the door, laughing at the girl on the floor. She looked close to tears, but ignored them, turning her back on them as she checked her injuries. Her ankle was throbbing, but she ignored it. The bullies outside the door were starting to get bored at her lack of reaction, and they drifted away from the room, looking for new prey.

The ballerina was getting up now, her long legs so thin they looked as if they would snap at any moment. Her arms were exactly the same as her legs – there was just one difference. Silvery lines ran up the inside of her arms, criss-crossing one another. They stopped just under her elbow, but they were hardly noticeable in the first place. They blended perfectly into her pale skin, the kind of perfect skin with no blemishes that you normally only see in magazines. Everything about her screamed model – her graceful neck, her heart shaped face, long strawberry blonde hair that fell in smooth waves down her back, her straight back, her perfect posture. Her chocolate-brown doe eyes, well-shaped nose and bee-stung lips all complimented each other on her face. It was a shame that her cheeks were almost always covered in tears. Even now there was a tear tracking down past her nose, and dripping off of her chin. More following and soon her face was soaked with tears. She seemed almost angry at herself for letting them escape her eyes, and angrily scrubbed at them, getting rid of any evidence of their existence. She brushed back a few loose hairs that had come out of her bun and tried to tease them back into the middle. Failing this, she re-did the whole bun quickly and efficiently, showing hers years of practise.

Once this was all done, the ballerina checked that her tormenters had left, and, upon seeing that they had, returned to her practice. She once again attempted her pirouette, but her mind wasn't into the move, and she fell after only her first turn. Frustrated, she stamped her foot on the floor, and screamed at herself in the mirror. She then scraped her nails along her arms, over her silvery scars. Suddenly realising what she was doing she froze, and stared at herself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror that occupied one wall. Her eyes ran up her arms, and landed on their reflection. Disgusted with herself, she pulled her hands from her scars in one swift movement, and walked to her gym bag. She pulled out tracksuit trousers and a thick hoodie, and quickly covered up her body. She then put on her battered trainers and walked out of the room, carefully avoiding the mirror as she left.

She glided along the corridor, moving with soft yet confident steps, her eyes fixed in front of herself. She moved elegantly, head held high, straight back, the way she'd been taught to dance since she was three years old. As she approached her science room, she silently opened the door, hoping to slip into the back before the teacher noticed she was late. She wasn't so lucky this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Just to say, Hannah in the story is not like the real person, but I just couldn't think of a better name xx**

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><p>'Hannah Walker, could you explain to the class why you have missed half of my lesson?' Miss Rothenfield never shouted, her tone of voice always implied how loud she would be speaking. Right now, she would be yelling at the top of her lungs. I winced and made up some cheap excuse that I knew she wouldn't believe. Even worse, I could feel Bobbie and his sycophants staring at me, debating how they would make my life hell in this lesson. That was the problem with having a school with only one class in it. You couldn't get away from anyone. And if you got on the wrong side of Bobbie, you couldn't escape from the constant harassment. In lessons, on the way home, and, when I'd moved to be a boarder, when I was in my room. Even, a few times, when I was sleeping. I'd wake up with my room trashed, or messages scrawled across my mirror. I had to lock all of my personal or valuable things in a safe, so they couldn't get to them when they broke into my room at night. I learnt that from the first time they broke in. I used to get upset. I used to scream and cry and throw things. Now I just ignore it. I stopped caring anymore. What's the use of crying over something you never had? That's what my mum used to tell me. In her case it was my dad. In my case, it's happiness.<p>

I've never been popular. But it was never this bad. I used to have two friends, Damian and Kelly. Kelly was a Goth. She would come in full black make-up, black skinny jeans, a long sleeved black top and natural long, straight, glossy black hair that reached down to her waist. Damian was very fashionable. He was gay. What some people would call a 'typical gay'. He went through a nightly skin cleansing routine, never got drunk, and was very particular about language and manners. We were really close. We never went anywhere without each other. One of the reasons we got along so well was the fact that all of us were 'different' to the jocks and cheerleaders. Everyone else in our class (and school) was a jock or cheerleader. It got kind of boring after a while. There were three main groups of cheerleaders, and two of jocks. The jocks split into the main football players, and the benchers. The cheerleaders split into friendship groups. They sat discussing their appearance, spreading gossip amongst themselves and insulting everyone in sight. Me, Kelly and Damian were ideal targets for all of the groups. The main jocks would shove us into lockers, punch us, and put our books under the taps. The benchers would pick on Damian, to try and make themselves look 'hard'. They thought that it was cool to pick on the gay kid, that it would give them a better rep with the mainstream. The cheerleaders would pick more on me and Kelly. They once locked us outside when it was snowing. We spent a week in hospital. No one cared, except Damian. He had skipped school whilst we were off, he couldn't face them on his own. None of us could face them on our own, we relied on each other. We were always there for each other. Apart from one day. One day, I came into school and there was no one at their desks. The same on the next day. So I went round their houses. And I'll never forget what happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi there xx I'm really sorry that I don't update that often. I have some problems at home, and I don't really spend much time there anymore. Because of this I have to write the chapters on paper than type them up whenever I can. I'll try and be better in future xx :)**

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><p>As I rounded the corner, the first thing I saw was Billy and his gang. I thought about running away, before they saw me, but I wanted to know what had happened to my friends, I wanted to see them, I wanted them to reassure me that they were fine. So I walked up to the door of their shared flat, ignoring the ominous silence from Billy. That should have been a sign, Billy was never quiet. He was always picking on some innocent kid, boasting to his gang or just generally being noisy. But I was too absorbed in worrying about my friends. I couldn't cope without them. They were my everything, my lifeline. I couldn't exist without them. I knocked on the door, and waited impatiently for the answer. When it didn't come, I knocked again. By this point I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew something was wrong. I took the spare key from the pot beside the door, and opened the door. The first thing I smelt was the metallic smell of blood. Lots of blood. Now I was panicking, frantically hoping it wasn't what I thought. Unknowingly, I had tears streaming down my face. I ran from room to room, until I came to the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see the edges of a red puddle on the floor. I braced myself against the doorframe, and slowly opened the door wider. I closed my eyes and stepped into the room, feeling my trainers slide slightly on the liquid. The smell was sickening by now, the smell of two day old blood. It was almost suffocating me. Trying to mentally prepare myself, I opened my eyes. And was violently sick over the two bodies in front of me. They both had deep cuts up their arms, most of them concentrated in their elbows. The worst part was the position they were in. Damian had always been overly protective of us. We would never be allowed out of his sight. In fights, Damian would take most of the punches and kicks for us, stopping them getting to us as much as he possibly could. He had obviously stayed alive longer than Kelly could, as he had pulled her into his arms, and there was the trace of old tears on his cheeks. They were laid on the floor, with Kelly on Damian's chest, and his arms were wrapped tightly around her stomach, keeping her anchored to him. I slid down the wall, covered in blood and vomit, tears streaming down my face. I couldn't breathe, and before I knew it, everything went black. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was the female police officer by my bed. I looked around, and took in the familiar surroundings of the hospital room. The police officer heard me wake up and turned around, looking at me with a mixture of sympathy and disgust in her eyes. What she said next would haunt me for the rest of my life.<p>

'Hannah Walker? I am Officer Gray; I am working on the Smith-Burnham case. I am sorry for your loss, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?' I nodded, 'Okay, do you have any idea why Miss Smith or Mr Burnham would commit suicide? Did they have a history of self-harm? Violence? Were they particularly unhappy? Anything at all that could help us with our enquiries?'


	4. AUTHOR'S NOTE 1

**HI GUYS! Sorry I haven't updated in like ages (And sorry to anyone who thought this was going to be a chapter) but I've had A LOT of shit going on in my life. I won't bore you with the details but it involves me, homosexuality, two deaths, self-harming and depression. My life is literally like a soap opera :S. Again, I'm really sorry, but the next chapter will be up by the end of the week, and I'm going to try to update more often xx. **

**On a lighter note, I've written a short story thingy, so if you could can you please read it and tell me how it is x. THANK YOUUUUUUUUU **


	5. Chapter 4

'Suicide'. That one word circled my brain. That one word caused a haze of shock to fall over my already fragile mind. My head was swimming, I felt like I was going to faint. I heard a faint beeping, and heard someone run into the room. I could feel someone shaking my shoulder, and shouting my name, but it was like there was smoke blocking my ears, and a layer of plastic was covering my body. What finally caught my attention was the sharp stinging pain that radiated across my cheek. I looked at the doctor in shock.

'Sorry, Miss Walker, but we need you to calm down.' He seemed nice, nicer than any doctor I'd had before, nicer than the policewoman cowering in the corner. He didn't try to act like he was better than me, like he knew more about me than I did. He didn't try to act like my 'friend'; he looked like he actually cared what happened to me. He turned to the Officer Gray.

'I'm sorry officers, but if you are going to upset my patient then I'm going to have to ask you to leave. She has suffered from massive shock and is still recovering, and I know you have your enquiries to make, but if this happens again, I **will **make you leave.' She just stared at him. He turned his back, obviously dismissing her, and directly addressed me. 'Hello, Miss Walker, my name is Doctor Farlenburg, you can call me Dan. How are you feeling?'

His words were kind and his voice soothed the nerves in the pit of my stomach. He looked about 20 years old, he had smooth brown hair and his eyes looked like they had caramel swirled through them. When he moved his arms, I could see the muscles rippling through them. He was the type of guy that bottle blondes swoon over. I replied in a flat voice, 'I'm not that great. My best friends have just been murdered.' I saw a flash of shock run across his features. The policewoman, still stood in the corner, straightened up, and turned her full attention back to me. She made to step closer, but Doctor Farlenburg's glare stopped her. He turned back to me. 'I'm fully aware that your friends are dead,' I noticed his careful choice of words and just stopped myself from raising an eyebrow, 'but I am more interested in your physical condition at present. If you don't mind, I'm going to do some tests to check that you aren't in danger from the shock.' He then asked some simple questions, if I could remember my name, age, the date etc. Then came the question I was dreading. 'Can you remember what happened before you passed out?' I gulped and closed my eyes, memories flooding into my brain, like a dam had been broken. 'Yes' I whispered. 'Yes, I can'. Doctor Farlenburg looked at me sympathetically, then nodded and wrote something on his clipboard. 'Okay,' he said. 'You seem alright, you're going to have to stay for another day, to check you're fine, and then we can let you go. Do you have any questions?' I shook my head. 'Alright, I'll leave you to speak with Officer Gray; I'll be back a bit later on.' He turned to the silent figure in the corner and gave her a warning look. 'Remember what I said.' Then he left the room. I watched the officer come back to my bedside.

'Let's try this again, shall we, Miss Walker.'


	6. AUTHOR'S NOTE 2

Um, hi there *laughs awkwardly*. Long time, no see :/

I'm really, really, really, really, really, really, really sorry I haven't updated in ages but I've had many problems and it wouldn't have been good for my health to carry on writing this. Good news is, I'm (hopefully) better now, and I should be updating more regularly. At least, I'll try my best xx

Thank you for being understanding and carrying on with this story, even though I'm a total mess and can't update on time :/ I hope you enjoy the rest of the story 


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